The Handmaiden
by Lady Razorsharp
Summary: At the end of a black spiral of lies and betrayal lies the answer to the question: Who is Roger Smith?
1. Prologue: Roger

DISCLAIMER: Big O and all related characters are property of Sunrise, Inc. This original story is property of me.

The Handmaiden

By The Lady Razorsharp

Prologue: Roger

Ne irascaris Domine,  
(_Do not be angry Lord)_

ne ultra memineris iniquitatis:  
_(Or remember iniquity forever)_

ecce civitas Sancti facta est deserta:  
_(Behold, the Holy City is a desert)_

Sion deserta facta est:  
_(Zion is made a desert)_

Ierusalem desolata est:  
_(Jerusalem is desolate)_

domus sanctificationis tuae et gloriae tuae  
_(the house of You Holiness and glory) _

__

I left Gordon Rosewater's farm that afternoon with my nerves raw and jangling. At his insistence, I took the synthetic tomato, along with the half-finished book, back with me to the Gryphon. My hands were shaking as I keyed the security system. Only once inside the armored vehicle did my heartbeat slow to its usual steady pace.

I fought the urge to rest my head against the smooth wood of the steering wheel. The interior of the car smelled of well-oiled leather, evidence of Norman's care and attention to detail. Thoughts of the steady old man brought a smile to my face for the first time that day; he was the one constant, without pretensions or hidden agendas.

Everyone else, though…they were all like cursed mummies hidden in tombs, luring with the promise of treasure--the recovery of the lost memories--yet dealing nothing but death. Each layer of secrets, it seemed, crumbled away to reveal only more secrets.

For the first time since I'd left the Military Police, I wondered if this city would be the end of me. 

I shook my head and started the Gryphon, determined to put as much mileage between me and Gordon Rosewater as humanly possible.

The questions surfaced again, and as I turned onto the smooth ribbon of highway leading back to the domes, I gave into them for a rare moment.

_Who am I?_

_Where did I come from?_

_And how do I know how to pilot the Megadeus?_

**********

AN: Thanks to _www.EnigmaLyrics.com.ar_ for the Latin/English translation of Enigma's "Beyond the Invisible."


	2. Katherine

DISCLAIMER: Big O and all related characters are property of Sunrise, Inc. This original story is property of me.

The Handmaiden

By The Lady Razorsharp

Lyrics: "Beyond the Invisible" by Enigma

Part 1: Katherine 

_I look into the mirror  
See myself, I'm over me  
I need space for my desires  
I have to dive into my fantasies _

"On your mark!"

The young women fit their toes into the starting blocks, their smiles and laughter dying away as conversation gave way to concentration.

"Get set!"

Lithe bodies curved like longbows, the women tipped themselves forward to rest on splayed fingertips.

A single gunshot echoed against the domed gymnasium roof, and the four young women launched themselves forward like gazelles eluding a prowling lion.

With their teammates cheering from the sidelines, the four young women took flight over the hurdles in their paths. The racers turned the corner and hurdled the obstacles on the back straight-away, the team's cheers singling out the dark-haired racer that had pulled slightly in front of the other three.

"Go Kitty!"

"Move it, girl! Come on, move it!"

"She's gaining on you, Kat!"

"Go, Kitty, go!"

The team went wild as Kitty dashed across the finish line with the three others hot on her heels. All the racers slowed to a stop, panting with exertion. A blonde girl a head shorter than Kitty handed her a pale yellow towel as the team called their congratulations.

"I think that's your best time this season," the blonde remarked, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

Kitty rubbed her damp face with the towel, then draped the terrycloth around her slender neck. "Thanks, Ames," she smiled, her smooth alto voice a little breathless still from the race. "I just hope that's a good omen for my final exams."

The pair moved off the track to the sidelines as another group of young women dashed down the track. "What are you nervous for? You always get good grades," the blonde grinned at her dark-haired companion. "What's more, you barely crack a book, from what I see."

Kitty grinned again as she bent to unlace her track shoes. "Are you kidding? I lost count of how many hours I've studied till the words were just little black dots on the page." She dug her stocking feet into a pair of slip-on sandals and picked up her gym bag. "I'm just glad it's almost over," Kitty sighed as they left the pavilion to enter the school building across the courtyard.

"Yeah, graduation at last!" the blonde giggled. "Who'd have thought we would be college graduates someday." She put her hands behind her head, her expression dreamy. "Hey, what are you doing after graduation, Kitty?"

When her friend didn't respond, Amelia turned her blue eyes in the direction of whatever was holding Kitty's onyx gaze. Far across the school grounds, Amelia could make out a man standing at the fence. Two other men in suits stood close beside a long, low car parked at the curb, and a sudden finger of chill went down Amelia's back.

"Who are they?" Amelia ventured, lowering her arms. "They were here the last time your team practiced."

"I don't know who they are," Kitty murmured, "but I wish they wouldn't stare like that. It makes me feel strange."

"Me too," Amelia agreed, seizing her friend by the bicep and leading her toward the locker room. "Let's get out of here."

~*******~

_I know as soon as I'll arrive  
Everything is possible  
Cause no one has to hide  
Beyond the invisible_

"We are the first generation of Paradigm," Kitty said with conviction, her voice ringing out over the Graduation Day crowd seated in the stadium. "We are the generation who will bring the world back to its true form, the shining tomorrow visualized by the brave souls who arose from the ashes twenty years ago."

Glancing down, Kitty could see her parents seated to one side of the graduating class, their beatific smiles telegraphing their pride. Her parents were the generation she spoke of, she mused, and she too was proud of them--proud of them for rebuilding a world for her to flourish in after the devastation and horror of the past. "We must move into the future," she continued. "We must keep building Paradigm, expanding it to enfold those still lost in the darkness of terror and fear. We will use the knowledge we have gleaned from our years here at Paradigm University to do that--and we are grateful that we were able to study and learn and absorb the precious knowledge that was saved from cataclysm. For without knowledge, we perish."

Kitty stepped away from the microphone as the entire stadium rose to its feet amongst a cacophony of applause. Her black eyes bright with tears, she scanned the crowd of her beloved classmates and friends, wondering what the future held for all of them beyond this day.

A familiar face caught her attention at the bottom of the bleachers--a darkly handsome face wearing a smug smile, as if to mock her stirring speech. Kitty narrowed her eyes, not able to recognize the face at this distance, but remembering the shape of the shoulders, the gloved hands applauding with the rest of the crowd. This was the man who had lingered at the fence after track practice, with his big fancy car and muscled goons standing guard on either side. She looked away, willing him to leave her alone, and was relieved to find them gone the next time she looked in that direction. 

_Close your eyes  
Just feel and realize  
It is real and not a dream  
I'm in you and you're in me _

The graduates and their families milled about on the front steps of the University, exchanging hugs and tearful smiles. Kitty clutched her diploma, looking for Amelia in the crowd of white-gowned girls clustered near the entrance to the Rose Garden. A tall, dark figure stepped in her way, and she brushed past it with a barely breathed "Excuse me."

"Miss Katherine Smith?"

Kitty glanced up to see not one of the black-gowned male graduates, but a man in a finely tailored black suit. His sharp, intelligent gaze settled on her face, and he smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Congratulations on your graduation, Miss Smith," the man said in a smooth, deep voice. "These are for you." He produced a huge bouquet of yellow roses from behind his back and laid them in her arms.

"They're beautiful," Kitty breathed, blushing despite herself. "Have we met before, Mister---?"

"Rosewater," the man said, taking Kitty's smooth hand in his. "Gordon Rosewater." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You must know I've been keeping an eye on you for a while now. I apologize if I've caused you any distress."

Shifting the bouquet with a rustle of tissue paper, Kitty gave her admirer an uneasy smile. "And just what have I done to deserve this attention?"

"You've gotten high marks in all your classes, you're an excellent athlete---" Rosewater traced the curve of Kitty's chin with gentle fingers. "--and you're a very beautiful girl--no, a beautiful _woman._" When Kitty frowned, he dropped his hand. "You tell _me_ why you've captured my attention."

"I'm flattered, Mr. Rosewater," Kitty said in a tight voice, "but forgive me if I don't understand." She glanced behind her as her parents called her name. "If you'll excuse me." She turned to leave, then stopped and turned back for an instant. "Thank you again for the flowers."

Rosewater smiled. "It was my pleasure, Miss Smith."

Kitty nodded, then turned and joined her parents. "Who is that handsome man you were talking to?" her mother whispered excitedly. "Is he your sweetheart?"

"No, Mother, he's not." Kitty glanced back to see Rosewater standing in the same place, and to her surprise, he raised a hand to wave farewell. "I've only just met him this afternoon," Kitty murmured, turning back to her parents.

"He seems to like you," her father rumbled, "and he's obviously quite well off. Those roses are grown in East Town, where they've got enough light to do it."

"Well then that settles it," Kitty said breezily, trying to shrug off the strange feeling Rosewater's smile gave her. "Rich guys aren't my type. Look, there's Amelia and her family. We're going to be late to the reception if we stay around here."

With Rosewater forgotten, the Smiths called congratulations to Amelia, and the two families walked with the graduates to the University hall.

_It is time  
To break the chains of life  
If you follow you will see  
What's beyond reality _

Three days later, Kitty was coming down the stairs, her hat and gloves in her hand. She stopped three steps from the bottom, hearing another male voice coming from the living room--a voice that was not her father's. Clutching her tan leather gloves tightly, Kitty listened for a moment, trying to see if she could pick out what they were saying.

"--a special girl," said her father. "She was the anchor in our lives when she was born, tying us together after all the confusion." There was a clink of teacups, and then her father spoke again. "My wife and I--well--"

"I understand, Mr. Smith. She gave you a reason to go on after what seemed like the end of the world." There was a sigh, and a slight change in volume let Kitty know the stranger had stood and walked to the bank of windows at the opposite end of the living room. "I don't remember my parents. I don't know how old I was--twelve, thirteen, maybe--when I fell in with a work crew trying to rebuild the city. Eventually I became the foreman of that crew, and then I managed the entire construction operation. I'm a self-made man, Mr. Smith, a true son of Paradigm. I was even on the committee that renamed the city, giving the people who live here a touchstone, a strong pillar of surety in the sea of chaos." The cushions of the couch rustled, and Kitty knew the stranger had resumed his seat. "I see that same spirit in your daughter. That's why I've chosen her out of all the women in this city to court--and, when and the time is right--make her my wife. With your permission, of course."

Kitty had heard enough. Marching down the stairs, she stalked into the living room, her lined plaid pencil-slim skirt rustling. "What's going on here?" she demanded.

"Forgive me for surprising you again, Miss Smith," said a familiar voice, and Kitty turned to look up into the darkly handsome face of Gordon Rosewater. "I hope you don't mind that I asked your father not to tell you I was here. I had some things to discuss with him first."

"Like deciding my future without me?" Kitty snapped. "Mr. Rosewater, I think you'd better leave."

"Katherine!" her father said sternly. "Be polite. Mr. Rosewater," he nodded, turning back to the man in the crisp khaki pants and navy polo shirt, "please pardon my daughter's rudeness, but I have to agree with her. This is a bit premature, since you were only introduced three days ago."

"I understand your concern," Rosewater nodded. "Though I won't lie to you both; I hope Katherine and I do get a chance to know each other better, and I hope it will someday lead to a…lasting partnership." He smiled at Kitty. "You look beautiful as usual, Katherine. Yellow does indeed suit you," he nodded, indicating her fine-gauge sweater, and she blushed.

"I was just going out to do some shopping," Kitty heard herself say. "Good afternoon."

"I was going downtown myself; can I give you a ride?" Rosewater offered.

Kitty glanced at her father over Rosewater's shoulder, sighing as her father mouthed, _Go on_. "I won't be taking you out of your way, will I?"

"Not at all. My car's just outside." He smiled at her father. "Don't worry, I'll have her back before midnight," he joked as Kitty went to the mirror to settle a yellow beret on her dark hair.

"I know she's in good hands," her father laughed. "Kitty, behave yourself."

"I'm sure she will," Rosewater mused, coming up behind Kitty to rest his hands on her shoulders. He smiled at the picture they made in the mirror. "We look good together, eh?"

Kitty blushed again. "I--I guess we do."


	3. Chime of the Hours

DISCLAIMER: Big O and all related characters are property of Sunrise, Inc. This original story is property of me. 

The Handmaiden

By The Lady Razorsharp

Part 2: Chime of the Hours  
  
Sharing horizons that are new to us  
Watching the signs along the way  
Talking it over just the two of us  
Working together day to day, together  
--The Carpenters  
  
  
Kitty opened her eyes, squinting against the light that pierced the comfortable twilight of her room through the slatted window shade. She reached over to turn off her alarm clock, and a beam of light struck tiny rainbows from the diamond on her left hand.  
  
Awareness flooded her mind even as she screwed up her eyes against the brilliance. Today was the day she would marry Gordon Rosewater. By tonight, she would be his bride. Never again would she wake up in the room where she had only dreamt of this day. Now it was here, and suddenly Kitty found herself wondering--did she really want the dream to become real?  
_  
Of course you do,_ said a sensible voice in her head. _All brides are nervous on their wedding day. _  
  
That was it, she decided, as she rose to pull on her robe and open the shade. It was simply nerves. She had never been married before, so it was only logical to assume that this new experience would warrant a few jitters. In fact, she mused, seating herself before her dressing table, I should be more concerned if I wasn't nervous.  
  
She studied her reflection in the oval mirror. The young woman who looked back at her was a little pale, with spots of high color in her cheeks, but Kitty attributed that to the nervousness. Her eyes were windows of inky glass that sparkled in the wan light--or was it anticipation that made them sparkle so? Kitty smiled to herself and took up her brush to smooth the raven wings of hair back from her face. Two stubborn commas of hair fell over her forehead, and Kitty sighed. It would do no good to cut them (she had tried before, with disastrous results), and they were too short to brush into the rest of her hair, so she let them fall where they would. _He's going to see me this way every morning, so there's no use trying to change what can't be helped._  
  
A knock at her door made her look up, and she laid down her brush. "Come in."  
  
Her mother entered, the sun painting ruby highlights in her chestnut hair. "My girl, all grown up," she sighed, her blue eyes already filling with tears. "It seems just like yesterday we brought you home from the hospital, and now you're getting married."  
  
Kitty rose from her seat to embrace her mother. "Oh, Mama, please don't start crying now." She pulled away to wipe the tears from her mother's face with a corner of her dressing gown. "You won't be able to stop if you start now."  
  
"I know, I know," her mother nodded. She pulled a handkerchief out of her apron pocket and blew her nose. "I'm just so happy for you, Kitty. Gordon is such a fine man; he's everything I've ever hoped for you."  
  
Her smile felt brittle, but Kitty pasted it on anyway for her mother's sake. "I know, Mama."  
  
Her mother stopped in the middle of folding her handkerchief. "What's wrong, darling?" She paled slightly and gripped Kitty by the shoulders. "You haven't changed your mind, have you? You still want to marry Gordon, don't you?"  
  
Kitty knew it was foolish to try and keep anything from her mother. "I'm just nervous, that's all. Gordon's an important man in Paradigm. I only hope I can be the sort of wife he needs."  
  
Tears welled in her mother's eyes again. "Oh, Katherine. You've grown into such a fine woman, one that your father and I are so proud of." She laughed ruefully. "Of course, a three-month courtship is a bit shorter than we would have hoped, but--" she squeezed Kitty's shoulders. "You are as much a product of Paradigm as Gordon is."  
  
Frowning, Kitty broke away from her mother's grip and sat down on her vanity stool. "How do you mean, Mama?"  
  
"When we lost everything…so many years ago," her mother began, "it was chaos." She shook her head. "People wandered the streets, calling out names but not knowing why, or who they were calling." Her mother's eyes became hollow pools of indigo with the horrific memory. "Fire swept through the city. The clouds of smoke turned noon to midnight. Ash fell like flakes of snow from the sky. And the Megadeuces--" Her mother snatched her hands up to her mouth, and Kitty bolted up from her seat.  
  
"Mother, stop!" Kitty shook her mother a little, and the blue eyes snapped open.  
  
"I'm--I'm sorry, darling. I shouldn't be telling you such things on your wedding day." She blew her nose again. "Anyway, my point is that your father and I, when we found each other--it was as if the sun had come back again."  
  
Kitty was breathless; her mother had never told her this story. "You mean, you and Father remembered each other, even after the Event?"  
  


"I don't know if we remembered each other or not," her mother shrugged, "but when I saw him…" she smiled. "It just felt as if we belonged together. With him by my side, I felt that I might make it one more day." She turned to Kitty. "He gave me a reason to keep living. And then when we had you, I knew that God wasn't going to punish us forever. We were finally worth of His mercy again."  
  
The words echoed the legends that Kitty's generation had been taught from birth: God became angry at the sin of the world and set out to destroy humankind. To accomplish this, God gave His permission to have the Devil released from Hell. The angels waged war against the Devil and his minions using their holy Chariots, the Megadeuces. As the battle raged, the world was nearly destroyed, but at the last moment, God heard His children crying out, and He stopped the battle. Sending the Devil back into Hell, God let His tears fall on the earth, reviving His children. However, His children lost all their memories of the sinful creatures they had been before. They were left to start anew, purified and holy.  
  
Kitty sighed inwardly; her mother's generation still clung to the legend as truth, while more and more bits of the past were uncovered every day. The evidence showed that there had indeed been a cataclysm, but Kitty doubted that it had been the result of a war between angels and demons.   
  
"--point is, Katherine," her mother was saying, "Everything you have, everything you are, is a result of the goodness that came out of such evil. From what he's told us, Gordon is the same way; he helped rebuild Paradigm when he was barely old enough to swing a hammer. There's no reason to worry, Kitty." Her mother hugged her tightly. "You'll make Gordon a fine wife. I'm sure of it."  
  
Kitty hugged her mother back, a lone tear running down her cheek. "Yes, Mama."   
  
  
A few hours later, Katherine tucked her sheer-gloved hand into the fold of her father's arm. She blew out a breath and tried to stand still, so as not to kick gravel and dust from the garden path onto her white satin slippers. Her father smiled and patted her hand.  
  
"Nervous, Kitty-Kat?" he asked, using her childhood nickname. At her shy nod, he kissed her cheek through the filmy white veil. "Don't be. Did I tell you how beautiful you are today?"  
  
"Not in the last two minutes, Papa." Katherine smiled back at him. "I'm not that nervous, really. I just hope Gordon likes my dress."  
  


"He damn well should," her father snorted. "It cost him a fortune to hire that seamstress."  
  
Katherine giggled and clutched her bouquet of hothouse lilies and irises. "That's Gordon's way. He only wants the best."  
  
Tears shimmered in her father's eyes as a rich chord of piano notes signaled the beginning to the Wedding March. "And that's what Gordon's getting today—the very best." He pulled Katherine into his arms and hugged her. "I love you, Kitty-Kat."  
  
"I love you too, Papa," Katherine whispered, trying to keep her own tears at bay.  
  
At length, they stepped apart and reset their pose to begin the walk toward the white-painted summerhouse. "Well," her father sighed. "He's waiting for us. Let's go."  
  
The ceremony was a simple one, yet elegant. Attended only by her parents and Amie, her maid of honor, Katherine placed her hands in Gordon's and made her vows.  
  
"I, Katherine Jane Smith, take thee, Gordon Alexander Rosewater, to be my lawfully wedded husband…"  
  
When she had done, Gordon looked into her eyes and said with sincerity, "I, Gordon Alexander Rosewater, take thee, Katherine Jane Smith, to be my lawfully wedded wife…"  
  
Opting not to wear a ring himself, Gordon gave Katherine a plain gold band, inscribed on the inside with their initials and the date. The gold was so shiny that Katherine had trouble focusing on the rest of the ceremony, so drawn were her eyes to the gleaming metal.   
  
With the prayers said and the blessings pronounced, Gordon and Katherine turned to face one another. The priest, dressed in a long black cassock and white collar, raised his hands over the couple. "By the authority vested in me by the City and State of Paradigm, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," he nodded to Gordon.  
  
Breathlessly, Katherine waited for what seemed an eternity while Gordon raised the veil. He flashed her a brief smile, then leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss amidst polite applause.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen," the priest smiled, "May I present Mr. and Mrs. Gordon Rosewater!"  
  
After the ceremony, a thin man with salt and pepper hair stepped up to Katherine as she sniffed the roses along the path. The party was slowly making its way to a canopied table, and the man touched Katherine's shoulder lightly to get her attention. A little startled, Katherine turned to see who it was. _Mr. Wayneright, _she remembered, from a brief introduction at a social gathering a month before. _He's an engineer of some sort, can't remember what it was just right now…_  
  
"Mr. Wayneright, thank you for coming to our wedding," Katherine began politely. "It was very gracious of you to stand with Gordon. I know he appreciated it."  
  
"It's Timothy," Wayneright said, the sunlight gleaming from his dark glasses, "And it's me who should thank you." He sighed. "I never got to see my own daughter's wedding. She was only eighteen when I lost her in the Event."  
  
Katherine squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry," she nodded. "What was her name, if you don't mind my asking?"  
  
"Dorothy." Never in her life had Katherine heard such sorrow reduced to three little syllables.  
  
Her mother peeked around a large bush dotted with tiny red blooms. "We're ready for the toast. You two need to get moving, or you'll miss it."  
  
"Coming," Katherine's voice called after her mother. She tucked her hand into Wayneright's elbow. "Well, for just a minute, pretend I'm Dorothy, and that you've just seen me married," she whispered.  
  
Wayneright's smile quivered the tiniest inch. "Thank you, Katherine," he whispered back.  
  
When they reached the canopy, Gordon waited until his bride and her clouds of sheer white skirt were settled, then picked up a crystal flute of a bubbling golden liquid. "This, my friends, is champagne—an alcoholic beverage made from a specially fermented wine. My excavators uncovered a large cache of this stuff while clearing a block for a new store." Here he gave Katherine a broad wink. "Legend has it that when a bride is toasted with champagne, it's a sign of good luck and happiness." He turned to Katherine as the rest of the party picked up their glasses. "Katherine, my beauty, here's to our future—and the future of our city. May God see fit to bless both."  
  
"Here, here," Wayneright called out, and the toast was drunk.


	4. Chatelaine

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Big O; Sunrise, Inc. does. I do, however, own this original story.

The Handmaiden

By The Lady Razorsharp

Part 4: Chatelaine

And so many things I'd forgotten

In a world that we shared

With so many things for the asking

Never asked for the madness there

Strange how I find myself

So often on a distant shore

There's only one thing that's confusing

Was it you? Was it me?

With so many questions unanswered

Or was that part of your mystery?

--Sarah Brightman

Katherine knew Gordon was an important figure in Paradigm, so she assumed that his home would be much like her parents': larger than most, furnished with the occasional antique, sculpture or work of art. She imagined, as they pulled away from the rose garden in Gordon's long black car, that his home would be well-kept, with a manicured lawn, hedges framing the drive, or maybe even a small fountain in a tidy garden. 

What she saw put all of her girlish assumptions to shame.  The house was immense, seated regally at the end of a long ribbon of emerald green grass.  The white stone of the walls and the ornate trimmings on the eaves reminded Katherine of the wedding cake they had sliced that very afternoon. In the light of the evening sun, the house took on a delicate pink hue, and Katherine realized with a shock that they were outside the domes.  Her parents' house was in West Dome 2, one of the older and more prestigious neighborhoods, yet not even the finest house was as grand as the one she would now call home.

"We're here," Gordon announced, giving Katherine's hand a squeeze. "I've arranged for the staff to greet us. They're very anxious to meet the new Mrs. Rosewater." He smiled at her as a gloved hand swung open her door.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Rosewater," said a cultured voice. Katherine stepped out of the car and came face to face with a thin man with brown hair beginning to gray at the temples. With a pang of pity, Katherine realized that the man wore a patch over his right eye, but the man saw her momentary frown and smiled beneath his long mustache.

"It's alright, ma'am. I know it's a bit of a shock."  His left eye was a clear, bright blue, and it shone kindly at his young mistress. "Don't worry, I don't even remember how it happened."

"Ah, I see you've met Norman," Gordon called out, coming around the back of the car to join his wife. "Norman Burg, one of the first men I hired when I purchased Rose Terrace. Norman is my chauffeur, as well as head butler. The house wouldn't run nearly as smoothly if he wasn't here."

Norman smiled, his eye twinkling a bit. "I take great pleasure in my duties, sir. Maybe that's the reason you've kept me on so long."

Gordon laughed. "No doubt of that." He took Katherine's arm and began to lead her up the steps. "Come on; Norman will get your bags."

Katherine looked back at Norman, who shut the car door and bowed slightly.  "I'll take care of everything, sir," he called back. "We'll have you settled in no time, ma'am."

"What a wonderful thing it must be to have someone who you can trust," Katherine commented as they approached the large double doors.

"I'm gone on business so much, it's a necessity to have someone like Norman around." Gordon opened the door for her. "Now that you're here, however, you're the lady of the house. You and Norman will no doubt be working very closely to keep everything ship-shape."

Smiling, Katherine glanced back to see Norman pulling suitcases from the trunk of the limousine. "I'm already looking forward to it."

The inside of the house was as impressive as the outside, or so it would seem by the decoration of the foyer. With a long, curving balustrade and diamond-patterned black and white parquet floor, the foyer was two stories tall. A large crystal chandelier, wired for electricity, hung from the ceiling on a stout gilded chain. Mirrors reflected the light at every angle, and Katherine's fingertips brushed the satiny finish of a gossip bench seated near the door. A heavy black telephone shone dully from its perch on the bench, and a coat rack and umbrella stand waited nearby to receive their outerwear.

While Katherine was taking all of this in, a man in servant's livery stepped up to the couple and gave a short, polite bow. The man, fully gray but with no mustache, was wearing gray trousers and a black swallow-tailed coat, with an ornate R embroidered in red on the left breast. His white shirt was crisply starched, and his red tie was fastened with a small cabochon garnet. "Welcome to Rose Terrace, ma'am."  

His voice was not quite as warm as Norman's, Katherine thought, and the tone was rather clipped, but she reminded herself that servants were not required to be friendly, only useful and loyal. "Thank you."

"My name is Reynold, and I coordinate the grounds staff. I am also Mr. Rosewater's valet."

"A damn good one, too," Gordon chimed. "Reynold, what's the status in this place? Is everyone ready to greet their new mistress?"

"Ready and waiting, sir. They're all in the dining room, as you asked."

"Very good."  Gordon turned to his wife and ushered her in the direction of an ornately carved set of doors.  "After you, my dear."

The light from the foyer shone on at least twenty pairs of eyes ranged around the walls of the long, paneled dining room. Katherine gulped slightly to herself; she couldn't imagine being in charge of all these people! Then she remembered that Norman would be there to help her, and she relaxed slightly. "Good afternoon," she said, her voice sounding small in her ears.

"Everyone," Gordon began, "This is your new mistress.  Her name is Katherine, but I don't have to tell you the consequences if I hear anything but 'ma'am' or 'Mrs. Rosewater' come out of your mouths."  He glanced around the room at the silent audience, letting his words sink in for effect.  "Now. She will be working with Norman in order to familiarize herself with how things are done around here, and I expect each and every one of you to do everything in your power to assist them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," came the chorus of voices.

"Good. Alright, starting from the left--you, right there--please give your name, your position, and how long you have been in service at Rose Terrace."

A young man in spotlessly clean khaki overalls, white teeshirt and tough canvas gloves came forward, doffing his khaki cap as he did so. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm Raoul. I've been on the lawn staff for three years."

"Nice to meet you, Raoul," Katherine nodded, as a young woman in a knee-length gray skirt, gray blouse, and crisp white apron came forward. The woman's little white cap, embroidered with the same red R, was pinned into her stiffly formed golden curls.  She dropped a little curtsey in Katherine's direction.

"I'm Megan," she began, her voice high and soft. "I'm one of the upstairs maids--there's two of us, ma'am--and I also work laundry. I've been here five years."

An older woman in the same uniform came forward next, her steel-gray hair a foil to her dark green eyes. "I'm Giselle," she nodded to Katherine. "I'm Megan's mother. I've been Mr. Rosewater's head maid for the last fifteen years.  As such, I am in charge of the maid staff."

And so it went, for a good fifteen minutes--or at least until Katherine felt a knot of concentration forming in the middle of her forehead. She couldn't recall a single name, but she managed a pleasant nod to the assembled company.  "I'm very pleased to meet you all," she smiled. "I will most definitely need your help in the days to come."

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused. "Welcome to Rose Terrace, ma'am."

There was a single clap behind them, and the couple turned to see Norman standing in the doorway. "Alright, everyone, back to work. Let's let the master and the missus get settled."  The crowd filed out past Norman, who turned to Katherine and smiled.  "Your luggage is in your room, ma'am. I've taken the liberty to ask Lotte, your personal maid, to open your bags and air out your things. Mr. Rosewater thought you could get acquainted before she has to help with dinner preparations."

Katherine's head stopped pounding only to swim with Norman's words. "I have my own _maid_?" she asked her husband. At his nod, Katherine turned back to Norman. "Oh, well…all right. I suppose I should go talk to her, then."

"Take as long as you need, Katherine," Gordon assured her as she followed Norman up the grand balustrade. "I need to see to the office for a bit. I'll see you at dinner; six o'clock sharp."

"Okay," Katherine called back, fluttering a hand in his direction. "I've got a headache already, Norman," she groaned. "This can't be a good sign."

Norman turned and smiled at his young mistress. "I'll get you some aspirin, ma'am. It's a lot to be hit with on your first day; I do apologize. You'll learn everyone's name in no time, though." He stepped up to a set of white doors trimmed a recessed rectangle outlined in gold paint. "Here we are."

"Does _every_ room in the house have double doors--Oh!" Katherine's eyes adjusted to the light pouring in from the window, and caught her breath at the sight of the loveliest room she had ever seen. The furnishings were pastel yellow and bright white, dominated by a huge bed made up with a white organdy coverlet. The four-poster bed was draped with a crocheted canopy, and the light was filtered by filmy white sheers that fluttered in the breeze. The wallpaper was an icy lemonade and white stripe, and the plush carpet underfoot was the color of lemon sherbet. 

"It's--so beautiful," Katherine murmured, sinking down on a settee upholstered in pale yellow shantung. A young, dark-haired woman in a butter-colored suit glanced dazedly back at her from her left, and with a start, Katherine realized it was her own reflection in the oval-framed mirror on the marble top dresser. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Mr. Rosewater's instructions were very specific," Norman said, pleasure at Katherine's reaction evident in his voice. "This room was quite drab before, if I do say so myself."

"Still, to make him change his room like this," Katherine mused, rising to finger the rice carvings on the bedpost. "This is so feminine. I hope he doesn't feel threatened sleeping here," she joked.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am," said a strong feminine voice, "but this is _your_ room. The master's room is two doors down." A slender woman in a maid's uniform, with copper hair cut just below her ears, stepped into the room from an open doorway. The piercing look in her jet-black eyes made Katherine distinctly uncomfortable--or maybe that was just her surprising announcement, Katherine wondered.

Frowning, Katherine rose to her feet. "You mean, Mr. Rosewater and I--well, that is--" She fiddled with her clutch nervously, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

"Mr. Rosewater often comes in very late from his work, ma'am," Norman explained gently. "I would venture to say that he wouldn't wish to disturb you, when that happens. Besides," he smiled. "This house could do with a feminine touch here and there.  Don't you agree, Lotte?"

Lotte nodded, and Katherine realized that Lotte looked more like a girl of 18 than a woman. "Of course. Now, if you will excuse me, ma'am, I have duties in the kitchen before dinner. I will be back to help you dress at five-fifteen." She gave a short curtsey, and left the room through the double doors.

Norman inclined his head toward Katherine. "I must be off as well," he announced. "If there is anything you need, ma'am, just pick up the white phone on the table, and the staff on duty will answer."  He turned at the door. "Please, feel free to tour the garden; you'll find a door to the left of the bedstead that leads directly to the Rose Walk."

"Thank you, Norman." Katherine smiled. "I just might do that."

"Very good, ma'am. See you downstairs, then." The door clicked shut behind him, and she was alone.

"My God," she breathed, sinking down on the settee again.  After a moment, she giggled to herself; she had to tell Amelia about this place. She was sure Amelia would be emerald green with envy.  Picking up the white phone on the occasional table next to the settee, Katherine waited for the answering voice on the other end.

"House line," said a female staffer. "Yes, ma'am, how may I assist you?"

"I'd like to make a phone call," Katherine began, but to her surprise, the staff member cut her off nearly midsentence.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but the only outside line is in Mr. Rosewater's private office, and it is currently in use."

"Oh."  Katherine frowned. "All right then, never mind."  She replaced the handset in its cradle.  _So much for that idea._

Since the phone call would have to wait, Katherine decided to explore the garden. Rising from her seat, Katherine walked to the door and pushed it open onto a flagstone path.  A rose icon was set into the flagstones every few feet, and the path was flanked by tall rosebushes covered with sweet-smelling blooms. In the very center of the garden was a fountain of a young nude woman pouring water from a jar on her shoulder into the large pool at her feet. 

A flash of movement caught Katherine's attention, and she stepped out onto the path.  "Hello?" she called.  "Is anyone there?"  A young girl, about sixteen or seventeen, peeked out from behind a bush heavy with nodding pewter blooms.  "Come here, don't be afraid," Katherine beckoned.

The girl stepped out into the wan sunlight, and Katherine gasped despite herself; the young woman was heavy with child, one that rode high under her full, swollen breasts. The girl's blue eyes were wide, as if she had been caught doing something forbidden.

"What's your name?" Katherine asked, but the girl turned tail and fled. When Katherine reached the spot that the girl had been standing, the girl was gone.  Searching the path in either direction yielded no results, so Katherine gave up and decided to go back inside and familiarize herself with her room.

The room was one breathtaking surprise after another; the scented paper lining the drawers of the bureau, the sumptuously appointed dressing room, where her clothing already hung neatly on yellow satin hangers, and the incredibly luxurious bathroom off of the dressing area. The bathroom was the most breathtaking yet, a far cry from her small sink-and-shower operation at her parent's house.

Katherine ran one butter-gloved fingertip along the rim of the deep tub, which was lined with cream-colored marble. Two large windows of thick glass bricks amplified the wan light, yet distorted the view enough for sufficient privacy without drapes. Thick towels made of spotless white terry hung on a rack within easy reach of the tub, and a small gilt vanity nearby held an assortment of glass bottles, all filled with different shades of golden liquid.  

Curious, Katherine picked up each of the bottles in turn, removing their faceted crystal stoppers. The first gave out a scent of newly cut roses; the second a scent like the sea. A third smelled of spice, and a fourth reminded her of cookies just out of the oven. The fifth one, however, was her favorite; it smelled of lavender and lemon. Slipping off her gloves, Katherine tipped the bottle to spill a little of the contents in her hand. The liquid was slippery and delightfully smooth, but it did not foam like soap. With sudden heat in her cheeks, Katherine quickly replaced the stopper and put the bottle back on the table. This was oil such as lovers used, to accentuate a sensual touch during their private times together. Her mother kept such a bottle on her dresser; Katherine had been punished as a child for spilling the expensive liquid, though she hadn't known what it was for.

_Which scent will be his favorite? _ Katherine wondered, wiping her hands on a towel. 

A knock at the bedroom door made her jump. Hastily gathering up her gloves and her purse, Katherine left the bathroom just as Lotte appeared in the doorway to the dressing room.  "Hello," Katherine nodded.

"Good evening, ma'am. It's five-fifteen. I've been instructed to help you dress for dinner tonight."  She approached Katherine, hands out.  "May I take your things?"

"Oh, of course!" Katherine gave her purse and gloves into Lotte's hands. Lotte put the purse in a compartment just inside the dressing room door, then placed the gloves in a small mesh bag.

"For laundering," Lotte explained at Katherine's curious glance at the mesh bag.  "May I have your shoes, ma'am?"

Katherine stepped out of her chocolate-brown pumps and began to unbutton her suit jacket. "Lotte, how long have you been working for Mr. Rosewater?"

"Not long," Lotte said, bending to put the shoes in a cubby. "My father is friends with Mr. Rosewater. That is how I came to be in service at Rose Terrace."

"Ah." Katherine lay her jacket over the back of the settee, and Lotte came around to help her unzip the skirt. "You know, when I went into the garden just now, I saw a young girl walking on the path."

"A girl, ma'am?"

Katherine nodded and stepped out of the skirt. "Yes, a girl not much older than you, really. Poor dear, she looked very uncomfortable; she must be almost due."  The breeze reminded her that she was only clad in a form-fitting slip and thigh-high stockings, and Katherine moved back from the half-open doorway.  "I tried to ask her name, but she just ran off.  Do you know who it was?"

"I couldn't say, ma'am." Lotte approached with a large white box in her arms. "Mr. Rosewater asked that you wear this tonight," she said, placing the box on the floor at Katherine's feet.

"Oh, he's given me so much already," Katherine smiled, as Lotte undid the white ribbon and lifted the lid. Parting the tissue paper, Lotte drew out a full-skirted, strapless evening dress. The dress was made of taffeta, and was a stylish riot of tiny yellow and black check. The neckline was a glossy band of white satin that would fit snugly around Katherine's bust, turning her gentle curves into a daring décolleté.  

"Does the dress please you?" Lotte deadpanned. 

"It's gorgeous, but is dinner such a formal affair every evening?" Katherine asked wryly, shrugging out of her slip.

"This dinner is in honor of the master's new bride," Lotte returned. "Such an occasion warrants this manner of attire." She lay the dress gently on the settee and took the slip, only to come back with a floor-length half-slip and a strapless bustier, both made of white satin trimmed in lace.

Katherine blushed and stripped off her brassiere. These were the undergarments Gordon would have to undo this evening, if she didn't change from her dinner dress before bed. The sunlight was turning more ruddy as the moments ticked by, and suddenly her wedding night seemed much closer than it had been at noon in the rose garden.

Lotte's sharp eyes picked up on the high color in Katherine's cheeks. "Is there something wrong, ma'am?"

"No, not really." Katherine gave a small grunt as Lotte fastened the bustier with a strong tug. "It's just--well--" she turned to face Lotte, who regarded her solemnly from under her thin eyebrows. "I suppose if you're going to be my maid then there's not going to be any secrets between us."

"Of course, ma'am. Everything you say to me I will hold in strict confidence."

Katherine grinned. "I know. I'm just--well, nervous about tonight. I never have, you know."

Lotte didn't blink. "You mean, you have never been intimate with a man before," she said.

With an explosive sigh, Katherine smiled at her unflappable companion. "Well, I'm glad one of us said it. Yes, that's right. I'm a virgin."

"You lack knowledge in how to please a man in this manner," Lotte nodded. "Unfortunately, I can be of no help to you."

Katherine returned the nod. "So that makes two of us, then."

"No, you do not understand," Lotte said, her voice even. "I cannot help you because I am not a human. I cannot feel desire or love or any of the emotions you humans feel."

With a shock, Katherine stumbled back and sat down hard on the settee. "What do you mean, you're not a human?"

"I am an android," Lotte explained. "I was only created to resemble a human."

"But you said your father--"

"Dr. Wayneright is my father.  I call him thus because he modeled me after his real daughter, Dorothy."  She bent to pick up the gown. "Shall I help you dress now?"

The foyer was a buzz of activity when Katherine came downstairs, pulling on her long white satin gloves. Her heart thudded off-time for a just a moment when she saw the graying head and dark glasses of Timothy Wayneright, but she looked up and smiled as Gordon's voice called out above the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my lovely bride, Katherine." The assembled party broke into applause, and Katherine found herself blushing yet again as Gordon came to kiss her cheek.

"Good evening, everyone," she nodded. "Dr. Wayneright, it's good to see you again." She shook Wayneright's hand as the crowd moved into the drawing room just off the foyer.

"Katherine, you're a vision in that dress." He offered his arm as Gordon hung back to talk with a balding, heavy-set man with gold rings on every finger. "How are you faring your first day as chatelaine of this monstrosity?"

"Well, when I'm not receiving the shock of my life, I'm just fine. " At Wayneright's puzzled silence, Katherine leaned in close. "I met your daughter. She's my personal maid, you know."

Wayneright smiled. "So you've met the poor attempt of an old fool at bringing back his daughter," he murmured. "How did you find out?"

"Ah it…came up in conversation," Katherine ventured. "She's a marvel. I can't imagine the Memories you'd have to have to bring her to life."

Wayneright patted Katherine's hand. "Sometimes, my dear, memories are like nightmares. They appear when you least expect them." He turned as Gordon approached. "Here's the one you should be spending time with, not an old fool like me."

Gordon grinned, and Katherine mused that he did indeed cut a dashing figure in his pearl-gray dinner jacket. "You're not trying to steal her away from me, are you, Tim? I only just got her today."

"I wouldn't dream of it; you two belong together." Wayneright kissed Katherine's cheek. "I've got to go talk to Miguel. I'll see you both at dinner."

"So, how did you and Lotte get along?" Gordon asked as they walked among their guests.

The dinner bell chimed, and the group started to move en masse to the dining room. "I think she and I will get along splendidly," Katherine smiled.

After dinner, the dozen friends and associates of Gordon's enjoyed champagne in the rose garden. Amid colored lights that turned the landscaping into a fairyland, Gordon introduced Katherine to the guests. Included in the company was Miguel Soldano, the balding man she had seen earlier. He was an industrialist, she was told, who headed up a company that made electronic devices for use by the Military Police. When introductions, congratulations, and compliments were finished with Mr. Soldano, Katherine was introduced to a young man who shared a strong resemblance to Gordon.

"Katherine, I'd like you to meet my nephew, Alex. He couldn't make it to the wedding because he was holding down the fort for me at the corporate office."

"A pleasure to meet you," Alex smiled.  "I'm glad that there'll be more to the family than just Gordon and myself." He winked at Gordon. "Maybe even some cousins soon, eh?"

Katherine willed herself not to blush; she was an adult now, and would soon be a woman in all the ways that mattered. "Maybe so," she volleyed back.

The evening wound to a close, and the guests were seen off in their elegant limousines, calling farewells and last congratulations. As Norman shut the door, Katherine wandered into the dim foyer, her footsteps echoing against the tile.  "The party was a great success, ma'am," he said with a smile. "You charmed everyone in attendance, if I may be so bold to say."

Katherine smiled. "Thank you, Norman."  She looked over her shoulder at the staircase. "Well, I suppose I should say goodnight. Would you please let Gordon know that I'll be expecting him shortly?"

Norman nodded, ever unshakable. "Of course, ma'am. Good night."

Picking up her skirts, Katherine rustled her way to the top of the stairs, then opened the door to her room. Lotte had laid out her pale yellow peignoir set on the settee, and candles shimmered from every surface.

_Everything you say I will keep in strict confidence,_ Lotte's voice echoed in her mind. 

A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie, and she turned to see Gordon enter the room, a stark pillar of masculinity in this den of womanhood. His eyes glimmered with the reflections of the candles, and a smile slowly crept across his handsome face.

"You are so very beautiful, Katherine."

She couldn't speak; instead, she removed her gloves, pulling them one finger at a time until their satiny length laid bare the creamy skin of her slender arms and hands. She removed her shoes, and the hem of her dress puddled slightly on the floor.  She held out her hands to him, beckoning him closer.

His hands were on her bare shoulders, smoothing the skin with his callused hands. She reached up and loosened his tie, and he shrugged off his elegant jacket. His lips were in her hair, on her cheek, on her lips, and she felt her blood begin to race. His fingers found the zipper on her dress and took it down, so slowly that it was almost agony to Katherine. Gordon pressed himself into her; she could feel he was ready, and the thought nearly set her aflame.  _When did I become so wanton?  She wondered blissfully._

"Katherine," he whispered against her neck. "My beautiful Katherine."


	5. The Author and the Finisher

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Big O; Sunrise Inc. does. I do, however, own this original story.

The Handmaiden

By The Lady Razorsharp

Part 5: The Author and the Finisher

Mary said also, "Behold, I am the handmaiden of the Lord. Let it be done unto me according to thy word." --Luke 1:38

Pain.

There was nothing in the world but pain. Love was gone, hope was gone. All there was left was pain, and Katherine's soul overflowed with it.

"Oh, God," she moaned, dragging her parched tongue ineffectively across her chapped lips. "Please, God…"

"Shh," a voice whispered, followed by the touch of a cool cloth on her feverish forehead. "It will be over soon."

Katherine's eyes focused on a dark shape at the end of her bed--a shape that became Gordon Rosewater. _The author of her pain._ "You," she snarled at his stony-faced visage. "You did this to me! You _bastard!_"

"She's delirious," Rosewater commented, watching Katherine writhe in the agony of childbirth. "There's no chance that she'll harm the child…or herself, is there?"

A thin white hand removed the cloth and exchanged it for a fresh one. "It is common for women to feel a great deal of discomfort and emotional distress with their first child," said a bland, informative female voice. "That would lead me to assume that Mrs. Rosewater is no different."

"Hmm." Rosewater gazed at his wife a moment more, then turned and walked toward the door of the birthing chamber. "Let me know if there is any change."

"Of course."

When he had gone, Lotte gazed down at her charge with night-black eyes. Katherine had grown quiet for a moment between contractions, and she met Lotte's gaze squarely. Though Lotte was an android, there had been many times over the past year that Katherine was sure she had seen traces of emotion on her companion's pale face. Having almost daily contact with Lotte had acquainted Katherine with the subtle variations of Lotte's dour expression: curious, resigned, annoyed, even anxious and uncertain at times. Right now, Lotte was moving through all of those, though to an outsider, her expression would have remained exactly the same.

"Lotte," Katherine rasped. "I didn't mean that."

The android smoothed Katherine's hair back from her face. "It is to be expected. You are feeling pain such as you have never felt before, and are frightened."

Katherine gritted her teeth at the beginning of another contraction. "Easy for _you_ to say," she growled.

It seemed to Katherine that the moments of agony began to outnumber the moments of clarity, and she became vaguely aware of increased activity in the room. Lotte's hand stayed in hers, the temperate skin never warming as it held her own feverish flesh, and now Katherine gave a startled cry as the hand was pulled away.

"Don't leave," she whispered.

"I will not," Lotte assured her. "Your labor has gone on too long. The physician has deemed that the best course of action is a cesarean section."

Katherine nodded. "Is…is the baby all right?"

"At this moment, yes." Lotte continued her steady commentary as Katherine felt her bed begin to move. "This procedure will be less stressful on both you and the child." 

The thought of something happening to her precious baby was more than Katherine could bear, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. "I hope so," she whispered.

Lotte's voice was right beside her ear. "Do you know what a prophecy is, Katherine?"

Katherine's blood went cold. "What--"

"You will have a son, Katherine. He has a destiny to save this city from itself. You will be lost to each other, but do not be afraid. He will carry your memory in his heart as he fulfills his destiny."

Bright light flooded Katherine's vision after that, and dark shadows appeared in the midst of the pools of light coming from the ceiling. "Just relax, Katherine," said a male voice to her left. "You're going to go to sleep for a bit, and when you wake up, it'll be time to see your new baby."

Confused, Katherine swiveled her head away from something cold and hard they were trying to put over her face. "But…but she said…"

"That's it, take a deep breath," the voice continued, as the air became thick and medicinal.

Two heartbeats later, Katherine plunged into darkness. 

~*****~

Katherine found herself floating in the darkness; buoyant and rising like a bubble. With a gentle bump, she reached the surface and was enveloped by a soft white light that smelled of roses.

"Mmm," she breathed, feeling the coolness of the air on her skin. There was an odd tingling in her legs, but when she tried to move them, they refused to obey. Annoyed, she opened her eyes to see what was going on.

She was in a small, white-painted room with yellow organdy curtains, covered from shoulder to toe with a warm, snowy-white blanket. Beyond the twin bumps of her unresponsive feet, Katherine could see a low white enameled railing, and beyond that a single door with a high, square window. Next to the door was a small table that held a huge vase of bright yellow roses.

"How are you feeling?"

Katherine's body was still too lethargic to do anything more than twinge in surprise. Everything from the neck up still obeyed, however, so she turned toward the precisely modulated sound. Katherine was relieved to find Lotte sitting in a white enameled chair on the right hand side of the bed. 

Lotte, her usual ramrod-straight posture betraying no signs of discomfort at the hard metal surface, regarded Katherine with her fathomless black eyes, weighing and measuring each movement, each twitch of her mistress' body. "It will take some time for your physiological responses to return to normal," Lotte announced. "Going back to sleep will speed the healing process and pass the time." 

Katherine tried to speak, but found her throat too dry. Lotte poured a glass of water and helped guide it to Katherine's lips. After allowing Katherine a small sip, Lotte replaced it on the table next to the pitcher.

"How long have you been here?" Katherine asked, after a grateful swallow.

"The operation was completed six hours ago. You have a son."

Tears sprang to Katherine's eyes. "He's…he's all right then?"

Lotte's pointed chin dipped once. "The doctor assured Mr. Rosewater that the baby is in perfect condition." She brushed Katherine's hair back from her forehead, and the gesture struck Katherine as an oddly human one, coming from the android. "Sleep now," Lotte instructed, and Katherine sank back into the darkness again.

It seemed to Katherine but just a moment, and she was once more rising to the surface of awareness. The tingling in her legs had grown to a dull ache, but she still could not move below the waist. With a mewling sound of pain and frustration, Katherine struggled to alert the presence she felt in the room to her discomfort.

Someone turned back the blanket from Katherine's feet and took her heels in a pair of cool, smooth hands. Relief stole the words from Katherine's mouth, and the 'thank you' turned instead into a low groan as the cool hands began to restore circulation to the sleeping limbs.

Opening her eyes, Katherine found Lotte to be the instrument of said relief, the russet head bowed in concentration on her task. At a small noise from Katherine, Lotte looked up, but continued her ministrations. "I was instructed to alert the nurse when you awakened so the baby can take nourishment."

"Just a little while longer," Katherine sighed, as the ache became a buzz, and then faded away completely. "I wish you could know how good this feels."

Lotte tilted her head slightly, which translated to amusement in her limited emotional repertoire. She laid Katherine's feet gently back on the mattress and covered them back up. "I will continue after feeding time is over." She turned with a rustle of skirts, and Katherine realized that Lotte no longer wore the maid's outfit, but a simple dress of pearl-grey crepe. The rounded white collar was ornamented with a red grosgrain ribbon, which fastened with a garnet cabochon. Stockings, slip-ons, even the ever-present hair band were grey, and Katherine found herself smiling a little. _Even androids have their conceits._

The nurse, an expressionless blond woman dressed in a uniform that blazed white from head to foot—except for the blood red cross on her boat-shaped cap—pushed into the room ahead of Lotte. The nurse took Katherine's pulse, made a notation on the chart at the foot of the bed, then left the room.

Lotte bent over Katherine's prone form, slipping one slender arm under Katherine's shoulders and the other under her knees. "Are you ready?" she asked. "Moving will bring a momentary discomfort, but you must sit up to feed the baby."

Bracing herself as best she could, Katherine nodded. "I'm ready."

With android strength and precision, Lotte easily pulled Katherine into a sitting position and propped her against the pillows. Lotte hadn't exaggerated; there had been some discomfort, but her dexterity had made it minimal. "Thank you," Katherine smiled at her matter-of-fact companion.

Lotte resumed her post on the chair at Katherine's right hand. "You are my responsibility," she countered. "Thanks are not necessary."

Katherine smiled. "Next time, Lotte, just say 'you're welcome'."

The door opened, and the android and her mistress turned toward the door as one. The nurse returned, pushing a small crib on wheels. Inside the crib, Katherine could see a pale-blue wrapped bundle, and the bundle was squirming slightly. She bit her lip; this was her son. 

During the few moments it took for the nurse to wheel the crib to the bed, Katherine's mind buzzed with a million thoughts. _Will I be a good mother? Will my son love me? Will he be like his father? Can I really do this?_ Then the nurse was laying the squirming bundle in her arms, and everything else faded into the background.

Turning back a corner of the blanket, Katherine looked upon her son's face for the first time. With a button nose, rounded cheeks, and long, sooty lashes, he was perfect. Velvety ravens' down covered his head, and one miniature hand reached out to grasp his mother's finger. "Hello there," Katherine breathed. 

Lotte had been silently cataloguing every detail of the tiny human. "What will you call him?" she asked, her onyx eyes flashing.

__

Poor thing, Katherine smiled to herself, _he's got those quirky eyebrows of mine._ "I'm going to call him Roger."

"Roger. That's a fine name for a fine young man." Rosewater's voice rang out across the room, and Katherine looked up with a start to see her husband standing in the doorway. She smiled at him, but then the memory of her outburst during labor came rushing back, and her cheeks burned with shame.

"Gordon," she began, but she trailed off as Rosewater stepped to her side, his eyes only for the swaddled bundle.

Rosewater shook his head. "Those eyebrows..."

"Gordon, I wanted to tell you--"

"Make sure she rests after feeding the baby," Rosewater interrupted, turning to Lotte.

The android looked up at Rosewater from under her brows. "Of course."

He turned to gaze once more at his son, reaching out to gently stroke the baby's head. "Everything must be done to see that Roger grows strong and healthy."

Katherine tried again. "Gordon…"

Rosewater raised his eyes to Katherine without moving his head, his mouth compressed into a dark line. His face was blank, his eyes cold and dark. It was as if she was looking into the eyes of a stranger. 

Katherine wanted to shrink back into the pillows. This was not the man she married. This was not the man who had come to her boudoir night after night, coaxing bliss from every cell of her body until she fell into an exhausted slumber. _Who are you?_ she cried silently. _Who are you and what have you done with the man I love?_

Rosewater turned to leave. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to fix Lotte with a gaze that rivaled her own for solemnity. "You have your orders, android. Take care of my son."

Lotte nodded once, her features set in stone.

"Why?" Katherine whispered after the door drifted shut. "Why did he look at me that way? Why didn't he talk to me? Is he angry with me for what I said?" Tears welled up in her eyes until the door was just a misshapen blur. "I didn't mean it…"

The baby began to squirm and fuss, and Katherine shook herself as if from a deep sleep. Forgetting Rosewater for a moment, she watched as Roger's eyes opened to slits of liquid obsidian. "Yes, you're hungry," she murmured, finding it natural to pull back one corner of her garment and set the baby at her breast. When Roger was fully engrossed in his meal, Katherine looked up to see Lotte watching with her version of rapt attention.

"Is that painful?" Lotte asked, tilting forward slightly.

Awash in wonder, Katherine considered the android's question. "No, not really," Katherine answered truthfully. "However, there are moments when--" She winced slightly. "He gets a little too enthusiastic."

Lotte's expression shifted ever so slightly into something akin to pride. "Then he is already strong."

Soon, the tiny pulls at her breast slowed, and Katherine gently laid Roger on her cloth-covered shoulder. She rubbed his back until he let out a small burp, then she cradled him in her lap and tucked the blanket snugly around his small frame. Katherine looked up to see Lotte taking in every movement, no doubt filing every action away in her positronic brain. _She's a robot, she'll never know what this feels like, to look on the face of something you've carried inside yourself. _"Lotte, would you like to hold Roger for a moment?"

"It would be useful information to help me carry out my orders," Lotte agreed. "Yes. Perhaps for just a little while."

"Here. Put your arms like this." Katherine made her arms and hands into a loose circle, elbows out, and smiled when Lotte was a perfect mimic. "Good. Now, support his head--there you go." Katherine slid Roger carefully into Lotte's arms, where the android held him gently, but securely. To Katherine's shock, Lotte began quietly humming a simple tune.

"I didn't know you could do that," she breathed. "You've never sang before. How did you know to…to sing to a baby?"

"The real Dorothy knew this song," Lotte explained, her eyes fastened on the baby's placid face. "My memory banks have not accessed it before. Apparently it is an appropriate action for this situation." She tilted her head slightly. "He is asleep."

"I'm sure being born tires one out," Katherine said around a massive yawn.

"I will call the nurse to take Roger back to the nursery." Lotte stood, Roger still cradled in her arms. "You need your rest."

Katherine wanted to protest, to ask Lotte to lay Roger beside her on the bed, but another wave of exhaustion washed over her. "Be careful with him," she murmured.

As if responding to some automatic summons, the nurse returned. Without a word, she took Roger from Lotte and laid him in the mobile crib. Pulling a black marker and a pale blue card from her pocket, the nurse glanced at Lotte. "What is the child's name?" she asked in a monotone.

"His name is Roger."

The nurse made a notation on the card, then placed it in a pocket on the side of the crib. Katherine's vision was blurry, but she could just make out the letters: _Smith, Roger_.

__

Smith? Katherine thought dimly. "Wait, there's been some mistake," she began.

Lotte stood at the foot of her bed, blocking the view of the nurse and the crib. "Sleep now," she said, and Katherine found she could not resist.

__

I'm sure someone will tell the nurse she made a mistake, was Katherine's last thought before sleep claimed her.

For the next three days, morning brought the doctor, who came in to check on Katherine's incision. After Katherine bathed, the nurse would change the dressing. By the time the nurse collected her supplies and left, Katherine was exhausted, and had no trouble sleeping until Lotte woke her to feed Roger. After feeding Roger, Katherine would eat her breakfast, with Lotte standing by to make sure her mistress ate every crumb. Then it was time for Katherine's favorite part of the day, when it was just she, Roger and Lotte. The android absorbed every detail as Katherine pointed out Roger's perfect toes and tiny fingers, cataloguing every coo and cry from the squirming infant. As Roger gripped the android's finger one bright morning, Lotte tilted her head at him.

"His skin is much different from mine," she noticed, watching the pinkish fingers flex against her snow-white digit. "It is softer and more flexible." She withdrew her hand and placed it with its twin in her lap. "However, it is much more fragile and susceptible to injury."

"That's the difference between androids and humans," Katherine said gently, wrapping Roger up once more and cradling him to her side. "Our bodies wear out after seventy or eighty years, or so." She sighed. "It sounds odd, and even a little sad to say, but even Roger will grow old someday." 

"It seems difficult to be a human," Lotte said. "Growing old sounds like a real downer."

Katherine gaped at Lotte, then burst out laughing. "Where did you hear that?"

Lotte's expression was a perfect deadpan. "I hear things all the time."

Still chuckling, Katherine shrugged. "I suppose growing old can be a real downer," she conceded. "Roger's got a long way to go until that happens, though. First, he'll learn to sit up, then to crawl, and walk and talk and run and jump." Roger cooed, and Katherine touched his button nose with her fingertip. "Yes, isn't that right, my little man? You'll do all sorts of amazing things, won't you?"

One morning, the light from the window was still gray when Lotte shook her awake. Startled, Katherine glanced up at her companion. "What is it? Roger--"

"He is well. It is time to leave."

"Oh." A few days ago, that message would have filled her with joy; now it filled Katherine's heart with uncertainty. She hadn't seen Gordon since the day Roger was born, and she wondered what kind of a reception she would get at Rose Terrace with things so strained between them. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you have fed Roger. You will take your meal later," Lotte informed her.

The thought of seeing her precious boy lightened her heart, and Katherine managed a smile as Lotte helped her to sit up. "That's good. The food here isn't very tasty. I'm looking forward to Giselle's cooking again."

The nurse soon brought Roger, but Katherine stopped her with a hand on her arm after making sure Roger was settled. "Excuse me, but I want to talk to my husband."

With a cold glare, the nurse pulled away from Katherine and walked away without a word.

"I _said_, I _want_ to talk to my _husband,_" Katherine said sharply.

"You'd have to be married to talk to your husband," the nurse spat, pulling open the door.

Katherine stared at her in disbelief. "What did you say?"

The nurse left, throwing a sneer over her shoulder at Katherine. A moment later, the door opened again, this time to admit Alex Rosewater, a welcome splash of color in his red polo shirt and khaki slacks.

"Alex, thank Heaven you're here," Katherine gasped. "Someone should tell this nurse's superior she's unfit for her duty!"

The young man cast an uneasy glance at Lotte, who was sitting like a statue. "What do you mean, Katherine?" he asked as he moved around to Katherine's left side. 

"She's lost her mind," Katherine said. "When I told her I wanted to talk to my husband, she said I'd have to be married to talk to my husband. Isn't that the craziest thing you ever heard?" Roger began to fuss, and she bounced him gently. "She shouldn't work around babies if she's gone crazy."

"This is for you," Alex said, pulling out a long white envelope from his back pocket. "You need to read it and sign it. I'll wait until you're done." He pulled a pen from the pocket of his shirt, uncapped it and laid it on the table next to her.

"Lotte, would you--" she began, handing the still squalling Roger to Lotte. The android took the baby and placed him the crib, then sat and rolled it back and forth gently. As she sat rocking the baby, Lotte stared at Alex from under her brows. Katherine could have sworn the android's eyes glittered with malice at the young man, but she dismissed the notion. _You're just imagining things,_ she told herself.

The envelope was sealed with a red blob of wax, with an ornate R pressed into the wax. Breaking the seal, Katherine lifted out several sheets of heavy paper and scanned the title at the top of the page. _Decree of Divorce,_ said the thick black letters, and Katherine dropped the papers in shock.

"What is this?" she demanded. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"I assure you, Katherine," Alex said gravely, "my father is not joking."

__

Father? "Alex, have you lost your mind, too? You never knew your father, he died in the Event."

Alex laughed coldly. "On the contrary. Gordon is my father. Tell me, were you really that stupid, Katherine, that you didn't notice how similar we look?" He glanced at the android, who was letting the baby suck her finger. "That little whelp doesn't look anything like him, thank Heaven. That wouldn't do at all."

Stunned into speechlessness, Katherine picked up the papers and scanned the rest of the black words. _…Grounds for separation…infidelity…irreconcilable differences…_ Fury boiled up in Katherine, and she threw the papers at Alex. "These are all lies!" she screeched, as the papers fluttered to the ground. "I've never been with anyone else! I've barely left the house since we got married!"

Alex methodically gathered up the papers and jogged them neatly. "You will be provided for," he said, monotone. "You will be placed with the others."

"Others?" _What is he talking about? Has everyone gone crazy? Am I dreaming? _Katherine shook her head. "Alex, you're not making any sense!"

"You and Roger will live with the others, until it's time for Father to teach Roger what he must learn." He thrust the pen at her. "Sign at the X, please."

Katherine's snarl was that of a lioness protecting her cub. "I will _not!_" She threw the pen at him, but he dodged it and the barrel shattered against the wall. The ink made a blood-red splotch on the wall that dripped slowly to the floor.

Alex leapt forward and slapped Katherine across the face. With a series of precise movements, Lotte gave the crib a push to where it rolled next to the wall, then took two steps toward Alex, her hair bristling. She moved between Katherine and Alex, her hands rising toward his throat.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash in the space between the two combatants, and Lotte crumpled to the floor without a sound. Alex smirked, and Katherine could see blue-white sparks coming from an evil-looking device in his hand. "Sweet dreams, you electronic bitch," he snarled.

"_Lotte!_" Katherine shrieked. "What did you do to her, you bastard?"

"She was going to kill me," he spat tersely. "Now, you can do this the easy way or the hard way." He produced another pen from his pocket, a compact ballpoint that pulled into a larger instrument with a hard jerk of his hands. "Sign the bottom and you'll get to see your son grow up."

Katherine's eyes were as cold as Lotte's. "And if I refuse?"

"You're overwrought. The doctor is outside with a needle full of sedative," Alex explained. "However, if he happens to give you a little too much…" he shrugged. "It's your choice, Katherine."

In the corner, Roger wailed, his tiny body wracked with frightened sobs. Katherine closed her eyes, feeling cold tears spill down her cheeks. She held out a hand to Alex, who laid the pen in her palm. He held out the sheaf of papers, and she took them.

__

Katherine J. Smith, she wrote, in blood red ink.


	6. Rose In Bloom

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Big O; Sunrise, Inc. does. I do, however, own this original story.

The Handmaiden

By The Lady Razorsharp

Part 7: Rose in Bloom

Katherine rocked her son gently, singing Lotte's lullaby under her breath. On her left sat Alex Rosewater, arms folded and gaze locked straight ahead. To her right, Lotte was slumped into the leather seat, her mechanical frame still stunned by the charge of Alex's sinister device. The windows were too dark to see out, and dread rippled along Katherine's spine.

"Where are you taking us?" she asked again. 

Unlike the last two times she'd demanded an answer, Alex sighed through clenched teeth. "I told you. You're going to be staying with the others until it's time."

"Time for what?" she pried.

The interior lights of the car glinted on Alex's frosty smile. "What did the android tell you, Katherine? Did she prophesy about the baby at your breast?"

Katherine held Roger closer. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alex chuckled. "You do realize that her memory will be wiped, don't you? She won't remember you or your son."

It was as if he had dropped an icicle down the back of her neck. "You--you can't!" She threw a desperate glance toward the slack form. Lotte looked so vulnerable, with her copper hair strewn across her face and her dark eyes in shadow. "She has as much right to her memories as anyone!"

"Memories." Alex turned his gaze to the glossy black partition separating them from the driver. "That's what this is all about. Congratulations, Katherine. You just may be more perceptive than my father gave you credit for." 

The car slowed to a stop, and Lotte's door opened to reveal two men in Rose Terrace livery. "Where do you want this, Mr. Rosewater?" one of them asked, eyeing the android warily.

"Alex." Katherine didn't move from her spot. She raised her head and glared at Alex. "Lotte knows Roger. Even if you take that memory away from her, she will find him."

Waving her words away, Alex snorted. "That's nonsense. It's like unplugging a toaster, or snapping off a lightswitch. How could you think this android is any different?"

"Because," Katherine seethed, sliding painfully across the slick leather seat, Roger still tucked securely in her arms. "You didn't see her when she held Roger. They are bound together, Alex. There is nothing in this world that can change that." She strode bravely toward the two muscled guards standing at the wrought-iron gate set into the rose-covered hedges.

"Let me enlighten you," Alex growled, gripping Katherine's bicep when she would have swept past him. "We're going to unscrew the top of her head and stick an industrial-strength magnet in her skull. In less than two seconds, she won't even know her own name, much less remember your son's."  He grinned mirthlessly as Katherine blanched.  "Of course, we're not sure androids can feel pain. There's so much about the core technology we still don't understand. Even if she does, well, androids aren't too good at being able to articulate such things."

Katherine yanked her arm away from Alex's grip. A glob of spittle flew from between her lips to land on his cheek. "Go to hell." She waited until the guards had unlocked the gate, and stepped through without looking back.

Alex wiped his cheek with a red silk handkerchief. "You have no idea," Alex muttered to himself, as the gate clanged shut behind Katherine.

A red rubber ball bounced across Katherine's path, and she made a quick sidestep to avoid getting the ball underfoot. The ball hit the hedge and lodged itself underneath the branches. Up ahead, a small blond boy scrambled up the flagstone path on the hunt for his toy, dark eyes flicking this way and that.  Spotting Katherine and Roger, the boy gave a small gasp and moved back a step.

"Jason!" A woman's voice floated over the tall hedges, and a young blond woman rounded the corner. The sunlight lit stray hairs that had escaped from her chignon; apparently Jason was proving especially elusive this morning. "There you are! Don't go running off like that." The woman stopped in the middle of the path after she, too, spotted Katherine and Roger.

"Oh! Hello." The woman laid her hand on Jason's shoulder, and the boy buried his face in his mother's skirt. "He's shy sometimes around strangers." She dropped to her knees and lifted her son's chin in her hand. "Can you say hello to the nice lady?"

The boy glanced at Katherine skeptically. "Hello," he piped.

"Hello, Jason," Katherine nodded. "I'm Mrs. Rosew—ah, that is, I'm Ms. Smith."

"We don't stand on ceremony here," the blond woman smiled. "I'm Tina. Tina Beck."

"Then I'm Katherine. This is my son, Roger."

Tina leaned forward and cooed at Roger. "Oh, what a darling boy. I can't imagine why Gordon—" Her face fell, and she hurried to reclaim Jason's lost toy from the rosebush. "Here, sweetheart. The others will be missing us."

Katherine lunged forward a step. "Please—what were you going to say?"

Tina stopped for a moment, and then turned back halfway. "You'd think by now I wouldn't say such things."

Katherine took another step toward Tina. "What things?"

Tina turned around, her smoky quartz eyes begging Katherine: _Please don't ask me any more._

Katherine swallowed noisily. "You can't imagine why Gordon…what?"

Tina lowered her gaze to the path. "I can't imagine why Gordon…wouldn't want to raise Roger as his own." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I can understand why my boy…well, I had hoped he would take after his father." She smoothed Jason's golden hair, sifting his saffron cowlick through her fingers. The boy blinked, clutching his toy tightly.

Katherine's head was spinning. "I still don't understand," she whispered, gazing at her son's placid, beautiful face.

She looked up at the touch of Tina's hand on her shoulder. "Come," the blond woman said gently. "Let's get you settled. Perhaps in time, you will find answers to your questions."

~*****~

With Paradigm's perpetually cloudy skies, it was more of an art and less of a science for the light tenders in East Town to get the right mix of natural light to sunlamps.  However, today seemed especially bright, and as Alex strode from the foyer into the sunny atrium, he marveled at the perfectly balanced illumination.   "Hello, Dad," Alex said, stooping to kiss his father's cheek. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Gordon didn't look up from his newspaper as Alex took his seat at the opposite end of the long table. "Mmm. Did you take care of that errand I asked you to?"

Alex smiled his thanks at Norman, who was pouring coffee into Alex's cup. "Yes, I did. She wasn't happy about it."

"Hmm. I don't expect she was, at that." Gordon shook the paper and folded it neatly.  "Did she sign the papers?"

"On the second try, but yes, she did." Alex removed a cream-colored envelope from his jacket pocket.  He gave the envelope to Norman, who moved the eight steps to deliver it to Gordon. "She was a little hard to convince."

"She's got spirit, that one."  Gordon shook out his napkin and draped it over his knee. "That's why I married her," he added, as Norman replaced the coffee pot on the sideboard and went to retrieve the trolley. 

Alex sipped his coffee.  "I never understood that.  Why did you marry her, out of all the others?" His face fell, and he put down his cup.  "Did she please you more than my mother did?"

Gordon sighed.  "I would have married your mother, Heaven rest her soul, but she took matters into her own hands before I had a chance. It's nothing short of a miracle that you survived."

As Norman glided back in with the silver-domed trolley, Alex tried once again to imagine his poor, doomed mother. Gordon had told Alex the story when the boy was eleven; how one night, a lost soul approached Gordon on the street, offering him her body in exchange for money, and how Gordon saw something golden underneath the cheap clothes and the heavy makeup. Gordon burnished her into a jewel with fine clothes and an education, and despite a solemn vow to himself, he took her to his bed for one brilliant, blinding night of passion. When she discovered she was pregnant, the hormone fluctuations in her brain cracked her shining façade to reveal the rotting mass underneath. Overnight, the girl became a raving witch, and in her eighth month, threw herself headlong down the balustrade. Only the most skilled of Paradigm's physicians had been able to rescue Alex from the womb that so easily could have been his grave.

Norman delivered twin plates of bacon, toast, and soft-boiled eggs to the men, and then stepped back from the table.  "Will there be anything else, sir?" he asked Gordon.

"Nothing right now, Norman, thank you," Gordon nodded, cracking his egg with the back of his spoon.  "I do have an errand for you, but that can wait until after breakfast."

"Very good, sir."  Norman bowed and left the men to their repast.

After the butler was out of earshot, Gordon sighed heavily. "No sense in prolonging the inevitable."  He shook his head. "It's a damned shame, having to lose Norman. I'll never find another like him."

Alex dropped his spoon with a clatter, fury simmering in his eyes. "So it's true. You've really chosen that boy over me?"

"Alex," Gordon began gently, "Numbers don't lie. I had the lab run his tests twice. Every cell in that boy's body rings true; he is Dominus."  He wiped his mouth with his napkin.  "And as Dominus, he'll need someone to protect him. He'll need to have something to spark the connection, to touch the flame to the fuse, if you will."

Tears filled Alex's dark eyes.  "What about me, Dad?" He gripped white-knuckled fistfuls of the tablecloth.  "Who's going to strike the match for me?"

"I know you tested positive for some of the cues, son, but Roger—"

"Roger _Smith_," Alex spat through clenched teeth.  "He's not even going to carry your name, Dad! How can he be Dominus?"

Gordon's face was grim.  "You must accept what is, my son. Roger is Dominus. Any effort of yours—or anyone else's—to try and skew that fate will be doomed."  He glanced at his watch. "We've wasted enough time on your foolishness, Alex."

"But—"

Gordon took the tablecloth in both hands and pulled it off the table, carrying china, silver, and crystal with it onto the floor.  At the horrific crash, Norman came at the run.

"Sir? What in—Oh, my Heavens!"  Immediately, Norman dropped to his knees and began picking up the broken china.

"Ah, it's my fault," Gordon sighed, motioning surreptitiously for Alex to come stand behind Norman.  "I mistook the edge of the tablecloth for my napkin, and I took it with me when I stood up to refill my coffee." 

"Never mind, sir; accidents will happen," Norman was saying, just before the knife-like edge of Alex's hand dug deep into the nerves at the base of Norman's neck.  The butler immediately went limp and crumpled to the carpet.

Gordon stepped forward and checked the butler's pulse.  "Good. He's okay, just out cold. Damn fine work, my boy."

Hating himself for it, Alex found himself thrilling to the modicum of praise. "Thank you, Dad."  He glanced up at the two men in groundskeepers' overalls who had been waiting outside the door.  "Take him the same place you took the android."

The men lifted the butler's slack form, and as Alex made to follow them, Gordon stopped his firstborn with a hand on his forearm.  "Remember, my son," he cautioned.  "Hinder the boy, and you'll only dig your own grave.  Do you understand me?"

"It should have been me," Alex said without emotion, then turned and left the dining room.

~*****~

Everything was pleasantly dark, and he floated along peacefully, outside time. Then a bright light pierced the darkness, blinding him, and he lifted his hand to stave off the light.

"Norman," said a voice that sounded like thunder.  "Norman Burg."

_Is that my name?  _"Y…yes.  Yes?" He squinted to make out strange shadows thrown by someone standing in front of the light.  "Yes. I am…Norman Burg."

"And what is your purpose, Norman?"

Casting back into the foggy expanse of his memory, Norman searched for the item in question.  "To…to serve the Dominus."

"And who is your Dominus?"

The man wept for joy. How fortunate he was, to know his place, to have a purpose! And such a purpose, such a task!  "That dear boy—Roger Smith."

 A harpy's cry split the air, filling Norman's head with red, red rage._ "Roger Smith!" _   

"No—You mustn't!" Norman balled his hands into fists.  "I won't let you have him!"

_"Roger Smith!" _ The shriek echoed for what seemed like eternity. _"Die, NEGOTIATOR!"_

The first voice boomed out again.  "Seal away the abomination until the appointed hour!"  The harpy screamed in fury, but soon its cries were muffled, and then stilled altogether.  

Norman's vision cleared just enough to see a handsome young man in a red shirt standing over him.  "Who…who are you?" Norman queried, his throat dry.

The young man smiled.  "The new order," he replied.


End file.
